Mad Jack
by Skyrimthief235
Summary: Hear the story of Mad Jack, how he became the revered wanderer of the Mojave he is now. Hear it from the man himself. Rated M for violence and language.


The room in the Tops Hotel went quiet as a man with salt and pepper hair with a matching beard walked in. It was dead silent until the sound of hammers being drawn back simultaneously filled the air.

The man moved his hand into the pocket inside of his duster. At this movement, everyone else in the room jumped up, aiming their 9mm pistols at the man.

The man chuckled, people never changed. "Now now, is that anyway to treat your uncle Jack? I was only reaching for my lighter." He pulled out an engraved lighter, the movement pulling back his duster for a moment and revealing a shoulder holster with a white pistol in it.

He reached in his front pocket and pulled out a cigar which he stuck between his teeth, wrapped his lips around, then lit with the engraved lighter. He puffed on it for a few minutes before pulling it out, blowing the smoke at the men, and then replacing it between his teeth. " You know, your boss gave me this lighter, and my pistol, Maria. Both in exchange for me not putting a bullet where he put one in me. Except, me, I never miss. Your boss did. It nearly cost him his life. He owes me a life debt and I've come to collect. So, gents, I'm looking for Benny-if you haven't noticed-, know where he is?"

One of the men spoke up. "Yeah, but he's in a meeting with the other Chairmen and he gave us explicit orders to not let anyone, and I mean anybody, in that there room, ya dig? So listen here, will ya, why don't you take your sorry, no-good ass outta here, back to whatever hole you came from and wait for the Deathclaws to come and eat ya, okay? Alright." He'd walked over to Jack and poked him in the chest with every word on the last sentence.

Quick as a snake, Jack grabbed the hot-shot by his throat, pulled Maria out of her holster, and pressed her against the man's eye. "Now _you _listen, you little piece of worthless shit. I'm going to go see Benny, whether you like it or not, ya dig? Now, I'm going to let you go, and let you live. _If _you promise to be a good little shit and unlock the door then stand to the side like the fucking bitch you are, okay? Okay." He looked up and the other two men. "Now, you two, lower your guns, or your buddy's brains will be dyed into your nice suits." He pulled Maria from the lacky's eye, turned him around, kicked him in the ass to the door, and put it to his head while the lacky unlocked the door.

Once the lacky had finished and stood to the side, he didn't open the door. He kicked it in, nearly knocking it off it's hinges. He calmly walked in, sat at the top of the table in what he presumed to be Benny's chair, and propped his feet up on the table, crossing them over one foot on top of the other.

Benny stood in front of a projector showing a graph of the casino's gambling profits, looking like he'd seen a ghost. "You.. Why are you here? More importantly, why didn't my guards keep you out?" He glared at the three men standing outside, finding something extremely intresting about anywhere except Benny's eyes.

"Well, you remember that debt you owe me? You know, the one for not putting a bullet in the same place as you did me, except a little to the right. Directly in the brain. You only knocked my memories out, pissed me off, and brought death coming for you that night. But that's beside the point, I've come to collect on that debt, Benny, and I will not be denied."

"N-now now, if you want my life, there are other things I can give you. Money? Is that what you're wanting? If so, I can give it to ya, ya dig?"

Jack threw bad his head and laughed. "Oh that's just fucking rich. You think I'd want money, from _you_? You didn't even pay those Khans you brought along to help kill me, since you weren't a man enough to knock me out yourself. No. That's not what I want. But, my friends outside might. I think you'll remember these fellas. Jessup! McMurphy! Come on in!"

At those names, Benny went whiter than the moon on a clear Mojave night. A group of five Great Khans walked in, assault rifles on their backs, and anger written on their faces, clear as the fear on Benny's. The leader, Jesse, walked toward Benny, cracking his knuckles. Benny withdrew, eventually cornering himself. Jesse walked up to him and almost the same moment Benny was about to start begging for his life, Jesse punched him square in the nose. Benny dropped like a sack of potatoes. He hit the ground. Hard. Jesse kicked him in the stomach twice, dragged him to the side of the table opposite Jack, and threw him in the chair.

Benny looked up at a grinning Jack at the other end of the table and spat blood on the floor. "What.. do you want from me?" He whispered, too weak to make more sound than that.

Jack lifted his feet up off the table, leaned forward and answered. "I want the Tops." Then he leaned back into the chair with a smug grin.

The other Chairmen, who'd been quiet up until then, went into an uproar of protests. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" "Hell no!" "I'll kill him myself!" Were the main things shouted. Jack snapped and the Khans took the rifles off their backs and fired into the ceiling, shutting the Chairmen up.

"We can either do this the easy way, with you just giving it to me, or the fun way," He said, pulling out a cloth and Maria, starting to polish her. "I'll be back in a week for y'alls decision. Till then, I bid you gents adue. Toodle-loo." He got up form the chair, grinned at each one of the Chairmen, gave Benny a look, holstered Maria then left the room. The Khans followed suit before leaving. Jesse gave Benny one last punch, sending him to the floor, before he followed the rest of the group.

Jack and the group of Khans made camp just outside of Freeside. Sure, they could stay in one of the hotels or even in Freeside, Jack could get them in anywhere. But they both distrusted the NCR, whose presence was everywhere within the Strip and Freeside. They pitched their tents, the Khans sharing them while Jack his personal one. They made a fire and sat around the fire, drinking, eating, laughing at the Chairmen.

"So, Jack," Jesse said. "How'd you get Benny to owe you? I mean, besides getting him to give you the lighter and pistol." The Khans had been wondering that ever since they'd heard him say it inside the Tops to the guards. When Jesse and the others had traveled with Benny, they'd contemplated stealing the lighter but discarded the plan after they'd seen how effective Benny was with Maria.

"Simple, he was in Caesar's Fort, I'd been chasing him- and by default, you-, Caesar was going to have him executed, I was given the honor, I spared his life." Jack replied, sharpening his machete, the Liberator, on a stone.

"Yeah.. Sorry about that, by the way. It was just a job and he promised us money. Big money," Jesse said, reddening.

"Yeah, well, after that little incident, I sure had me some fun."

"Fun? From the stories, you sound like a living legend. From the north to the south of the Mojave, people whisper your name in reverence. Fiends cower when they see you coming, NCR Rangers admire your shooting, Legion soldiers run in fear from you. Man, you're a legend. You have the Boomers at your back, the Enclave and Brotherhood of Steel at your command. You've done so much, and you just call that fun?"

Jack stopped his sharpening, sheathed his blade, and looked at Jesse. "Boy, I'm nearing my thirties, I'm a wanderer, and I'm still breathing. I call that in itself an achievement. People like me usually don't last until they're twenty; usually they're dead in a ditch shot by some Viper or ripped apart by Deathclaws. You Khans have family, territory, respect. You don't know the wanderer life, and until you do, you don't know fun."

"Well, me and the guys were wanting to hear your story. And yes, you could go to any bartender in some low, run-down bar for that, but we're wanting to know how it all started; why you left home, why you wander, what exactly happened during your travels in the Mojave. Stuff like that. We want to hear the story of Mad Jack from the man himself."

Jack looked at him and grinned, not a happy grin, not an evil grin. This grin was one of someone who'd just been given permission to loose hell on someone. "You're going to regret that because I'm going to chew your ears off. Gather the others and meet me by the fire. I've got a story to tell and this'll take awhile." He got up and walked over to the fire outside of his tent, which was a little way away from the others.

Jesse gathered the group and they sat down in front of his tent. They kind of felt as though they were little kids again, grouping around for story time. Once they'd quieted down, Jack began his story.

"So it all started, about five years ago in what's left of Texas.."

**To Be Continued..**


End file.
